Anniversary
Twenty sweet years or mostly
not to mention the occasional evening split
by cool stars remote and separate above the house
or somebody’s willowed tears, the weeks
rained over us, beyond us even
in drought the wick of our youth
burned steadily down into our bodies.
There is no hiding the love we’ve sewn
into the squared quilt of this marriage—
long blue nights stitched into days full
or difficult or ordinary like the dozen
tiny wrens on the wire this fresh morning.